Being a Jane

I had an encounter yesterday that didn’t evaporate during the night, and that is still sitting in my gut. A woman I know fairly well—my age, with grown children, who thinks of herself as a feminist, a forward-thinking and compassionate woman, and a nurturer—made some remarks that astonished me, and left me reeling a bit. I have a few things to say about it.

First, some background: I’m not a mother. I didn’t give birth to or adopt children. Rosemary, as dear as she is to me, is a cat and not a substitute child.

However, I am a kind of parent. I am a Jane. There are children in my life, all grown now, who have counted on me, come to me, needed me in mundane and extraordinary circumstances. I changed diapers, read bedtime stories, had adventures, dried tears, watched “Milo and Otis” too many times, rocked babies, cooked meals, righted wrongs, gave advice, helped with homework, enforced rules, endured more school plays than any parent I know, gave first aid, made mistakes, played Go Fish, and cheered from the bleachers at little league games. I didn’t want to be a mother to all those children, because what I was and am is as satisfying and just as necessary. I am Jane, their Jane, the one and only.

Those children—the ones going off to college or raising children of their own or venturing out into the great big world—know the difference between their parents and their Jane. The parents—their actual mothers and fathers—have for the most part fostered my relationships with their children. There are benefits to them, too. And being a Jane, like being a mother, is a real job.

So back to the conversation: I was explaining to the woman I know fairly well that I’m going to spend part of Labor Day weekend taking Rachel to college in Maine. I’m one of her parents, I said, and I have the same responsibility to her as you do to your children. Her voice grew so chilly that I’m surprised the phone receiver didn’t ice over. It’s not at all the same as it is for me and my children. Not at all. It’s not as important. Where did that come from? I know that she is proud of the children that she and her husband raised, and that she loves them deeply, and that they have grown up well because of that. Somehow I threatened her, and so she tried to obliterate the truth of what I was saying. I began to get angry, really angry. But in a split second I decided to hold tight to what I know—that there is more than one kind of parent—so I waited. She flailed. I don’t know the history of your relationship with Judy’s children, she said.

No, Woman I Know Fairly Well, you don’t, and it’s too bad.

Obviously, her children never had a Jane of their own, poor things. There must have been no room for one, no room for someone else to love them, befriend them, or take care of them. They missed out on the fortune of having an extra parent, the awesomeness of having a Jane.What does this have to do with knitting? I don’t know, but I’m going to knit while I ponder.

23 thoughts on “Being a Jane”

Tears are welling up in my eyes as I read of the effort and love you have shared with your sisters children. My children had/have no Janes in their lives and my heart always and still wishes they had that kind of relationship, especially when they were young. They don't suffer for it, but how much more enriched their lives could have been. And how much easier parenting might have been had we had other, invested, loving people to count on. Life/parenting choices with much sacrifice were made because there was no support system. Your role is invaluable and precious. Just ask your sister and nieces…..How lucky they are to have you.

Yeah, that's a weird reaction. You hit a nerve somehow, but the issue is in that woman, not in you or your place in the lives of the kids you've nurtured. I can't imagine why your role as an extra parent would threaten her in any way, but just as she can't know your relationship with Judy's kids, you can't know hers with her own. As I read this I realized that there was no "Jane" in my life or my kids' lives, and wished there had been!

Well said, Jane! I am blessed and honored to be M'Amy/Miss Amy to 3 adorable girls in TX and Miss Amy to 3 special kids in WI. They have all captured a piece of my heart in their own ways and I am honored that their parents have allowed me to have this role in their lives. I look back on some great 'Jane-like' people I had in my life growing up and I agree that it is something special, indeed. You know this must be 'something' when marketers are latching onto the demographic & giving a label -PANK, Professional Aunt No Kids – which is such an oversimplification of what we are.

Wow. You know I totally understand where ou are coming from Jane. I just spent the last two weeks getting my girl ready for college, washing clothes and packing and getting the younger through missing her. We drove upstate Monday and back down Tuesday. Then Thursday into NYC to spend two days with MY Jane, who happens to be named Charlene. I was exhausted from all my traveling but she was in visiting from California and I had to see her.Charlene is 12 years younger than my mom and 13 years older than me, and from the time I was born helped take care of me. She was there when my parents brought me back to the apartment in the Bronx after they picked me up from the hospital where my birth mother had given birth to me. I was 3 days old and we have our own history that is different from my history with my mom. She is not my sister and not my mother but an essential part of my family and my life, and she has forged a similar relationship with my girls as well. I am blessed with her in my life and cannot imagine my life without her in it. Judy and the two R's certainly feel that way and that's what's important.

My children have a Lin and Lin's children have a Rosi. More important these days than ever, when families are so spread out geographically. What possible reason, other than insecurity, could this woman have for behaving so callously. Sad, not for you sweet Jane, but for her. Have fun in Maine.

I've heard that; I don't get it either. I am sad for you – lately I am in an environment where others are sticking up for me in my role with *my* kids, rather than me explaining. It astounds me every time – that role is not taken lightly, by me or those that see it. You deserve that. But you, and everyone else, deserve respect for your own feelings and relationships. (hugs)

♥ Sweet, loving Jane. Your friend was feeling inadequate in some way. She just hit you as a target because you were there. My Aunt Josie was my Jane. Jane's are just one of the best things in life for a youngster. Hug the kids! Meh to the other woman. She dumped something on you.

Oh, how lucky you and your girls are to have one another! It's an envious relationship, and perhaps that's why it touched a nerve. And for what it's worth, I think children (kids, young adults) belong to us all. As a parent, I'll guide them along and hope I do a good job. But I'm not the only one who holds sway over them – and I want them to embrace those relationships that come along and make them happy – they are rare treasures indeed!

Oh, I only wish my children had a Jane! What a gift you've given . . . and received.It's always so shocking when we discover something about a . . . friend. . . that we didn't know was there. Sometimes . . . there are land mines.(And knitting always helps!)

My children don't have a Jane, they have a Meg – and she's one of the most important people in their (and my life!) – sometimes the family you choose are much more important than the family you are given!

The growing young people whose worlds you touch are so fortunate to have a Jane … my Darling Bebe has many "Aunties" – we use that for the special women in her life so she can know that family can be chosen as well as born to us. More's the pity that your "friend" neither understands nor appreciates the importance of grown-ups-who-are-NOT-our-parents. Usually a reaction like that is predicated on some deep insecurity on the part of the one who reacts. In short: she has issues. Give it no more thought and whatever you do, don't let it muss your knitting, dear Jane.

I never had a Jane, but wish I had. My children did have a Jane, my BFF Kate. And I've been a Jane to my niece, Jessica, since the day of her birth. I believe Jane's are necessary, especially in today's world where both parents are forced to earn a living to raise a family at all. The Jane's of this world are needed by both the parents and the children, and lucky are all those that have them. I agree with the earlier reader, your friend must have felt a little inadequate for some reason, to have been so short with you. Thank goodness you know who you are, and what a treasure you are to all those that have you in their lives. 🙂

Part of me wishes her a better day, the other part of me wants to rip her a new one.Jane, you are someone who has made other people your family. And that makes a huge difference in the world.I too try to be an auntie for different kids in my life. Some people get it, some people don't. We have to be able to roll with what we get. 😀 love you!

Boy that is wild-I can only surmise that she felt threatened by a Jane in her children's lives. She sounds jealous. I am a Jane to my oldest niece and nephew and I would not trade it for the world. I learned a lot from them and hopefully they learned from me too. Hugs,KnittingKittens

One family of my grandchildren have a "Jane". Her name is Miss Elizabeth and is a director of the preschool they all went to. She lives close to my daughter and is a third parent/grandparent. Very helpful when there are 3 children.

I too am a Jane (though my name is Suzanne…). As an English teacher and housemother at boarding schools, I often knew more about "my" girls than their own mothers did. Sometimes that bothered the mothers in question, but most never knew or thought about it. I have received Mother's Day cards from "my" girls. I have been included in family gatherings. And at times I have faded into the background or disappeared. As a young woman, I had three different Janes. One I no longer see; one has passed away; but one is my dear friend and comrade, someone for whose children I was a Jane. So sorry to hear that the Woman You Know was so frightened by your lovely assertion.

I had a one or two Janes in my life when I was growing up and I am thankful for them, even to this day. They filled in the places and helped solve the problems that Mom and Dad could not. I never have forgotten them and what they meant to me.